


This Isn't High School Musical

by pinklights



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bucky Barnes is a Jock, Dance Major Natasha, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fine Arts Major Steve, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, International Relations Major Bucky, International Relations Major Sharon, Light Angst, Minor Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Romantic Friendship, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, This is in fact a sitcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinklights/pseuds/pinklights
Summary: "Who's the girl? Something you're not telling me, Steve?" On his canvass was dark paint and the beginnings of a white face in the middle. The blonde had a photo up on his phone for reference. Bucky didn't recognize her. She definitely wasn't Sharon."What? No. This is Natasha, Sharon's friend. We went to her recital the other night, remember? I invited you but you ghosted us."Bucky grinned, recalling that night. "Yeah, well, girls in tutus aren't really my thing. Girls in shiny dresses under strobe lights on the other hand..."--A Buckynat College AU told in non-linear fragments.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know I just ended a fic but I'm already back on my bullshit kids! This is something different from a lot of the things I've written so far. Hope you all like it <3

"Hey," Bucky had just come back from soccer training when he saw Steve by the window, working on another one of his paintings. The dude's been speeding through his work because he's procrastinated quite a bit and he needed a full gallery's worth of paintings by the end of the month. He's been too busy tailing one of Bucky's friends. He dropped his gym bag by the door and grabbed a drink from their fridge before taking a peek at the work in progress.

"Who's the girl? Something you're not telling me, Steve?" On his canvass were dark paint and the beginnings of a white face in the middle. The blonde had a photo up on his phone for reference. Bucky didn't recognize her. She definitely _wasn't_ Sharon.

"What? No. This is Natasha, Sharon's friend. We went to her recital the other night, remember? I invited you but you ghosted us."

Bucky grinned, recalling that night. "Yeah, well, girls in tutus aren't really my thing. Girls in shiny dresses under strobe lights on the other hand..."

Steve shook his head and continued to focus on his work while Bucky went to shower. Once again, the hot water wasn't working, which they really needed to get fixed before the winter months came, but they were both too scatterbrained for that. Maybe whoever's moving in to take the third room could get it fixed. Until then, their hands were tied.

When Bucky emerged from his ice shower, Steve was gone. He'd left the canvass where it was, the face looking more complete now. The woman in the painting had red hair tied up in a bun and the beginning of green eyes. _Natasha._ Bucky eyed the painting for a while before getting dressed and pulling out his laptop to work on the report he had due the next day. He should have had it done weeks ago but Steve wasn't the only one procrastinating.

 

* * *

 

Natasha was about to be late for class and she was _never_ late. She was always there on time, prepped and warmed up for when class began. However, today she decided to go back to sleep after her alarm rang and before she knew it, half an hour has passed and she was late.

Living a considerable distance away from campus was tough. She decided to get a cab, which was a big mistake, and now she was sprinting across the campus to get to the dance studio. Her class was starting in exactly 13 minutes. If she sped up some, she'd make it to the 5-minute mark. No one was allowed to be late in class. Especially not her.

And then a collision.

It felt like running into a wall. Before she knew it, coffee was running down her front, soaking her white shirt, and a string of curses was spilling out of a man's mouth.

"I'm so sorry!" She panicked, disoriented. She slung her bag over her shoulder again, smoothing down her hair that's already tied up in a perfect chignon.

"Fuck." He said, towering over her. He had dark circles under his eyes and some coffee on his own shirt. "My fucking laptop fucking fuck."

Natasha looked by their feet and found a laptop on the ground. No clear signs of damage but it took some of the coffee too. In a panic, the redhead picked it up and handed it over to the man, apologizing some more. He snatched it away from her hands and glared at her, blue eyes piercing through her like shards of ice.

"I'm so so so sorry. But I'm late for class." She wanted to help him, she did, but she was _late._

"Geez. Give me your name at least, lady, so I know who to sue for property damage."

She was already walking away by then, her back to him. "Romanoff. Natasha." She bowed a bit back at him as another silent apology and started on her sprint again, his cursing fading in the background. 5 minutes.

She made it in time just as Madame was closing the door. The old woman took one look at her and decided she was going to warm up on her own and join the class when she was 'more presentable' and 'less a trainwreck'. Natasha changed her shirt, thankfully she always had a spare shirt with her, and warmed up outside the room. She rolled her eyes at the whole thing. When she walked into class, her dance partner asked if she'd bathed in coffee before coming in. _Damn him._


	2. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky Barnes is a drama queen and Natasha is unbothered.

"Sharon told you right? Sharon. Did you tell him? That crazy woman just ran off after. Didn't even offer any condolences," Bucky said into the phone. He was still lugging around his laptop - which wouldn't turn on, partly because it fell onto concrete earlier and mostly because of the coffee that had spilled on it shortly after - as he walked to their usual lunch place. Sharon was supposed to be there too to give him a copy of all of her lecture notes because, again, his laptop was destroyed and he didn't own a pen apparently.

"Calm down, Buck, you're probably just hungry."

"It's a good thing I knew the TA. Worked my magic, got my deadline extended. Not that that mattered because now I have to start from scratch."

Bucky rounded the corner and reached the restaurant in a couple more steps. Steve was telling him on the phone how he'd already ordered for the table because Bucky was taking too long. He found him immediately, in their normal spot near the back where there were less annoying freshmen and more grumpy old professors. Except only one of the chairs in the table remained unoccupied. He'd usually put his leg up on the chair the woman was sitting in.

"Buck!" Steve called out. He did this every time even when they sat in the same spot every other day. He nodded, still eyeing the person in the seat next to his. Long red hair cascaded down her back, small frame, an oversized shirt draping off her shoulder.

"Hi, Barnes," Sharon greeted.

"Hey," he nodded at her as well before the woman in the seat next to his turned to face him and he swore this was a practical joke.

"Hi, I'm Nat--"

"Oh my god, it's you." He clutched at his bag, his dead laptop inside.

"It's me?" She furrowed her brows, looking back at Steve and Sharon in confusion.

"It's you!"

"Okay, Buck, sit down before someone kicks us out."

He did as he was told, eyes never leaving the woman - _Natasha_. Was she the one in Steve's painting? It didn't matter, all that mattered was that she was the woman who almost destroyed his academic career. "This morning? Coffee? Laptop on the ground? Potential lawsuit?"

He watched as the realization settled on her face, her cheeks turning red. "Oh my god. It's you!" To her defense, he looked much different now that he wasn't glaring at her. The darkness under his eyes were not that prominent.

"What's happening?" Sharon asked.

"She's the one I told you about. Crashed right into me and ruined my life."

"That's a bit dramatic, even for you," Steve said, reaching across the table to Natasha. "I'm sorry about him. He's just a bit cranky sometimes."

"I'm sorry about your laptop," Natasha looked back at the man - Bucky. "I can have it replaced if you want, or repaired. I know this place my friend goes to for his broken stuff."

"What? Like, today?" It was Bucky's turn to look confused. He looked across the table for support and Sharon only mouthed _'she's loaded'_ before going back to smirking. He didn't think Natasha would actually pay for the damages but apparently, she was a person who was capable of doing that.

"Yeah. Are you free after lunch? I can't late this afternoon since I have class until 10. If not, I can Venmo you or something."

"Venmo... me... a thousand dollars?"

Natasha blinked, confused with his confusion. The look on his face was hilarious. "Would you prefer... a direct bank transfer? I don't have cash on me right now."

Steve across the table was about to burst into laughter, Sharon's hand on his arm the only thing stopping him from doing so. Bucky shook his head and slowly placed his bag on the floor. He'd been clutching it against his chest the entire time. "After lunch sounds okay."

"Great," she grinned, turning back to Sharon, the two girls exchanging looks he couldn't decipher. _Women._

And as if on cue, the food arrived. Lunch continued normally, with Steve and Sharon looking like a couple of idiots and Bucky warily observing Natasha like she was some foreign object. He took note of how she removed the onions from her burger and refused any dessert.

"Can't be too heavy for class later," she explained. He wondered if she was one of those girls who didn't eat to look good on stage. That has always been his impression of professional dancers, especially the ones in tutus. Meanwhile, he scarfed down two burgers and most of the plate of fries because he actually needed the strength for training later. After they get his laptop fixed.

Sharon took off first after practically inhaling her lunch. She had a meeting with some organization about a protest somewhere - Bucky didn't know, honestly, what half of his friends did when he wasn't with them. The remaining three of them hung around outside the restaurant after lunch, trying to figure out logistics.

"I'm headed back to campus. You two?"

"A couple of blocks from here," Natasha said, squinting up at Bucky when the sun hit her face. He moved a bit so that his shadow would cover her.

"Okay. Please feel free to call me if he starts a monologue." Steve gave Natasha a quick hug and punched Bucky on the chest lightly before crossing the street in the direction of the university.

The two of them walked in silence on the way to the repair shop, Bucky pulling back every time his hand would almost bump into hers. He clutched on his bag to keep his hand in place. She powered on, oblivious to his conflict. Her hair looked like fire under the heat of the sun, or maybe it was just hot and he was seeing a mirage in the middle of New York City.

They were at least five whole city blocks away from where they were when she turned into a small alley. His eyes scanned the area, cautious. "You're not planning on murdering me, right?"

Natasha laughed and turned to look at him. "Little old me? I thought I ran into a wall when I bumped into you this morning. I'm sure you can handle yourself."

Bucky snorted, shaking his head. She was right. She was a whole head shorter than him and it didn't look like it would take a lot to defend himself against someone of her stature, not that he was serious about the whole murder thing. "So... you dance."

"Brilliant observation, Bucky Barnes. I only mentioned it like a hundred times over lunch."

"Right." He nodded. Before he knew it, they were standing in front of a small hole-in-the-wall shop that has a neon sign that says 'LAPTOP/CELLPHONE Repairs' on the window. He eyed the sign and looked at Natasha who was already pushing through the door, a little chime following her.

"Natasha--"

 _"Mischa, my friend needs help with his laptop. I accidentally broke it."_ Natasha spoke in a language Bucky couldn't understand. He recognized it as Russian from the mafia films he'd watched but he didn't understand a single word. He got nervous again.

She turned to him, gesturing for him to hand over his bag where the laptop was but he hesitated. "Come on, I need to go to class."

He settled the bag on his knee and unzipped it to get his laptop out. Natasha snatched it from him and handed it to the man who stood behind the counter with the thickest glasses he's ever seen. _"I think some coffee seeped inside and the screen broke too. Give me a good discount, huh?"_

 _"Of course, Natalia. Anything for you."_ He gave her a sticky smile and Bucky scrunched his nose, wiping it away when the man's gaze went to him. _"I'll have your American boy's computer fixed in 3 days."_

"He says he'll have it fixed in 3 days." Natasha translated for him, fishing in her bag for her wallet. She pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter.

"Wait, I change my mind, I'll get it." He reached for the wallet in his back pocket but Natasha shook her head.

"No, it's fine, really," she smiled at him and he didn't know what the hell it was about her damn smile but he felt a tug in his heart. _What the fuck, Bucky?_

Natasha gave Mischa a big smile and bid him goodbye before dragging Bucky back out to the street. It wasn't as hot in the alley as it was in the main streets so she could see him better. He looked very confused but he followed her anyway.

"We can get the laptop back in three days. You need to tell me if you're on your way here so that I can pay for the remaining balance for the repairs."

"Where did you learn how to speak Russian?" He wasn't paying attention to her instructions, he found himself growing more and more curious about this new friend of Steve's.

"In Russia, _duh,_ " she said as if he was supposed to know that. Natasha giggled a bit, her smile was still intact when she looked up at him.

"Don't tell me you're in the mafia or something."

Natasha laughed again, at the exact moment she stepped into the sunny main street her hair got swept away by a breeze and he was sure he was seeing a mirage in the middle of New York City. He had to stop himself from staring. 

"I moved here when I was thirteen," she squinted up at him again and he moved to block the sun from her face, _again_. Her cheeks were red from the heat. "I need to stop by someplace before going back to campus. I'll see you in three days?"

"Huh?" He'd been preoccupied staring at her lips. "Yeah, I guess I'll see you in three days."

She flashed him another smile before going on her way. Bucky just kind of stood there and watched until she disappeared in the crowd, dumbfounded. Something told him that maybe he should have played third-wheel with Steve and Sharon the other night, then maybe he'd have met Natasha under more preferable circumstances.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky is a fool and Natasha makes a move... kind of.

Natasha texted Bucky to meet her at her department that afternoon so that they could pick up his laptop together. Apparently, he was coming from soccer practice and was going to be late, so she sent him a text telling him which studio to find her in and went on with her own practice. Kind of.

She was already dressed to leave, but she remained in the studio anyway. Natasha had just finished a recital and had advanced a level in performance but she was determined to be perfect. The college has just announced that they were going to put on Romeo and Juliet for the winter show and she wanted to play the lead.

The music played in the background as she sat in the middle of the floor and closed her eyes, imagining doing one of the pas de deux with a partner who was yet to be picked. Her arms floated around her as she pictured the steps, already imagining the strain on her toes. Full shows were different from classes. Full shows required months of repetition until the choreography is ingrained in your memory, your life.

Bucky wandered the halls of the performing arts college, trying to look for the studio Natasha texted him. He went through a series of doors, walking by very intimidating people, until he found one with the door left ajar, the music seeping out.

It was Natasha, there was no question there, with her long red hair cascading into waves down her back as her arms went up and above her. He could see her reflection in the mirror in front of her. Her eyes were closed and the expression on her face went along with the music, smiling every now and then. He would be lying if he said she wasn't beautiful. She was probably one of the most beautiful people he's met.

He cleared his throat after a while, knocking softly on the door as to not startle her. Her eyes fluttered open as her arms went down to her sides and the movement was so soft and elegant that he suddenly wanted to see what her whole dancing thing was all about.

"Took you long enough," she teased, looking at him through the mirror and standing. Natasha turned the music off and started going towards him.

"Sorry. Practice ran late and I had to shower before coming here."

Natasha smiled and walked right past him and he followed, of course he did. "It's fine. Did you finish that report anyway?"

"Yeah, I think I haven't slept in twenty-four hours? I'm determined to spend the weekend hibernating."

"Too bad. I was going to ask you to dinner but I guess you need sleep more."

Bucky's ears perked up at the mention of dinner. He didn't expect her to be the type to make a move so fast but then again he didn't expect her to actually pay for his laptop either. He didn't know her at all.

"Relax, Bucky Barnes, it's just my foster dad has a dinner party Saturday night and none of my friends can come. I don't like being alone with old people."

"Oh," he cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure I could manage to wake up by then."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on her lips. "Do you have a suit?"

"I have  _a_ suit." The one he wore during every formal occasion he attended. It didn't matter because usually, he was never around the same people when he had to wear it.

"That'll do."

They took an Uber to the place they left Bucky's laptop at because both of them were too tired to walk. He paid for it this time after insisting a little too aggressively. When they got to the repair shop, Natasha took the lead again, giving Mischa a good smile. He couldn't understand a single word.

"Damage is not bad but screen had to be replaced." Mischa said in English, addressing Bucky finally, his accent heavy. The man turned on the laptop and it looked brand new.

Natasha watched him as he surveyed his laptop, checking for any marks or dents. "How about the files?"

"Files are intact, _even_ naughty ones." The man made a sound, lowered his head and chuckled. Natasha smirked while Bucky prayed to all the gods he knew for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. She didn't have to know about his porn stash, not so early on in their little friendship anyway.

She pulled out two hundred dollar bills and placed it on the counter, talking to Mischa in Russian again. It didn't feel right making her pay and now she was taking him to dinner too? Bucky wondered briefly if she was real or if he was hallucinating, passed out in the middle of the field during practice because of sleep deprivation. His theory proved negative when he was snapped out of it by the sound of her laughter. Apparently, Mischa had just cracked the funniest joke. Natasha slipped him another fifty and dragged Bucky out of there before Mischa could say another word.

The sun was still up, minutes from setting in the horizon. They stood awkwardly in the alley, Bucky not really knowing what to say. It was Natasha who broke their silence after a minute of observing how strange he was acting. Where was the cocky jock she met at that restaurant a couple of days ago? "I'll text you the address."

"What address?" His brows furrowed, confused. He looked adorable, like a puppy.

"My address, Barnes, for the dinner on Saturday?" She took her phone out and began typing. "You know what, I'll just text it now or else I'll forget."

"Thanks for getting my laptop repaired." His phone vibrated in his pocket a second later. He took it out and found an address along with instructions to text her when he was there and not knock. She lived in the Upper East Side. Interesting.

"Well, it's the least I could do." She grinned and he couldn't help but smile back, crinkles appearing at the edge of his eyes. Cute, she noted. But then again he was cute the day they met too. "And besides you owe me a shirt. And a bra. But I'm not going to add that to your tab."

They began walking back to the main streets, slowly, as if both of them were biding their time. "I could get you a new shirt," he mumbled under his breath, realizing shortly that he was probably going to need help picking out one. 

Natasha smirked, hailing a cab. "Don't bother. Just show up on Saturday, okay?" She got a yellow taxi instantly, which never happened to him. He was still convinced she wasn't a real person. Why did cabs never stop for him?

"Saturday." He confirmed, opening the door of the cab for her and shutting it once she was inside. She waved at him through the window and, without even thinking, he waved back. _God,_ he thought, _he was so whipped already._


	4. Day 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky is a dumbass and Natasha is kind of heartbroken.

Natasha's phone was vibrating underneath her pillow, waking her up from sleep. She was exhausted. She had rehearsals until late that day and she was determined to sleep in. Her clock blinked 3:12 AM and she groaned out loud. She didn't recognize the number but she answered it anyway.

"Steve, it's me. I don't think I can make it home tonight." His words were slurred, she assumed he'd been drinking. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out who it was on the other side of the line.

"Buck--"

"You'll never guess where I am," he continued. "I'm at a sorority party. Well, I was. The team got an invite." She could hear someone talking to him - a girl. Two girls? She was too sleepy to decipher everything. She wanted to hang up or butt in to tell him he's got the wrong number but he kept on talking, loud and obnoxious.

"Miss Beverly, or was it Beatrice - I forgot, anyway - she just showed me a good time. And apparently, the night's not over yet." He chuckled and Natasha could swear her heart broke in that very moment. She should have hung up. "Proof that I am not a whipped bastard like you keep telling me and that I haven't lost my game."

A girl giggled so close to the phone and told him to put it down. "Hold on, sweetheart--" Bucky cleared his throat. "As I was saying, and you can tell Sharon too since I know you're with her, I'm not wrapped around any person's fingers. No matter how soft her fingers are. Or how nice it feels when she holds my hand."

"James," she sighed. She wanted to yell but she had no strength for that. She just wanted to sleep and forget this phone call happened.

"Steve, you don't sound like yourself."

"You have the wrong number."

"Wait, wha--who--Nat?"

Natasha hung up and turned her phone off for good measure, shoving it under her pillow again to attempt to sleep. She felt ridiculous. There were tears in her eyes but she blinked them away. It wasn't like she thought there was something going on between them, right?

It wasn't like she looked forward to hanging out with him or that she found him super attractive when he was going on a tangent about things like maritime laws and global politics. And she definitely didn't like it when he came to watch her dance after his soccer thing. _No._ Definitely _not._ They _weren't_ a thing. So she closed her eyes and practiced her breathing, imagined a whole routine in her head until she fell asleep again with a heavy heart in her chest.

When she woke up the next morning, she felt more tired than when she went to bed. She wrapped herself up in her robe and went to the kitchen for coffee. Ivan was already there, reading the morning paper. He was already dressed to leave. The car was probably outside.

_"Your friend from the dinner party has been looming across the street. Oscar was about to call the police when I spotted him."_

Natasha rolled her eyes and abandoned her coffee, almost floating into the study to peer through the window. Bucky was across the street leaning against a tree with a cigarette in his mouth. It was only 7 AM. She had half a mind to ignore him, to let him wait around outside for nothing, but the neighbors might start talking and Ivan wasn't going to have it.

She wrapped her robe around her tighter and fastened the belt before stepping out of her door. He got rid of the cigarette as soon as he saw her, stomping on it before crossing the street, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He looked like a mess and, to be honest, so did she.

"Natasha, about last night--"

Ivan came from behind her, patting her shoulder. "I'm off to the airport. I'll see you in a few days." He kissed her cheek and nodded at Bucky. "James."

"Mr. Petrovich," he ducked his head, trying to hide the fact that he looked like absolute shit. Hopefully, he didn't smell the alcohol on his clothes. It took him about two hours and three diner coffees to sober up before going there.

He watched as the man slipped into the car and waited until he was a good distance away before facing the girl he came to see. He was still at the bottom of the stoop, a bit scared and very ashamed. He was such a fucking asshole. "Natash--"

"Can you please come inside? The people in this neighborhood talk a lot of shit." She turned and went in, leaving the door open for him and he followed her straight into the kitchen where her coffee was waiting for her.

"Natasha, I wanted to apologize about last night. I didn't mean what I said. I was drunk and stupid. You know how stupid I am when I'm drunk. I didn't mean any of it. I'm sorry."

She let him say his piece while he sipped on her coffee, her eyes avoiding him while she sat in the breakfast nook where Ivan was sitting earlier. He stood in the middle of their kitchen awkwardly, his eyes begging. He would get on his knees if she wanted him to.

"Please say something." Bucky sighed, running his hand in his hair. Natasha wasn't even looking at him, she couldn't. The phone call from the night before was replaying in her head.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I mean, it's not like we're in a relationship, James. I can't stop you from sleeping with sorority girls."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath but with the silence in the kitchen, she heard him anyway.

Natasha took a long sip of her coffee and watched as he scrambled for words. He approached her, sitting on the chair near her. "Nat, the truth is that I like you. I've liked you since the day we met and that is fucking terrifying for me." He felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Why was it that he had zero game when it came to the girl he actually had real feelings for?

"You need to stop smoking. Those things will kill you."

He sighed and sank back into his seat, watching her for a moment as she continued to busy herself with her coffee. He deserved this, he really did. The whole 'I don't want to be in a committed relationship' thing was stupid, it was something he made up when he first went to college because he thought it'd be fun. Bucky's always been the dependable son, responsible, and he'd like to think he still was. But he saw college as a way to let loose, to do whatever he wanted (while also maintaining his grades).

"I'm really sorry about last night. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me again." Bucky stood, accepting his defeat. It was so on-brand of him to destroy something that was potentially going to be good for him. Of course. He was Bucky Barnes.

"James," she sighed, because what else can she really do. She was conflicted with everything. Her life has never been easy, relationships even worse. Natasha's been closed off ever since she moved to America which made forming bonds with people harder than it should be. She wasn't all that great, to be honest. But he stopped on his tracks and looked back at her anyway, his eyes hopeful. She couldn't resist him and it looked like he couldn't resist her either. "Why are we making things so difficult for ourselves?"

He chuckled but he wasn't sure what she was talking about. She stood up and made her way over to him, pushing some of his hair from his eyes. He looked so tired. "How long did you wait outside for?"

"I don't know. I kind of had to sober up after you hung up. Maybe since 5 in the morning? The sun wasn't up yet." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down. Now that he was saying it out loud, it all seemed so stupid. 

"You're an idiot." She offered him a small smile, it wasn't one of those smiles that gave him a funny feeling in his chest but it was a start. It meant she didn't completely hate his guts. "And I like you too, but I won't kiss you if you taste like cigarettes."

"I'm never smoking ever again." He smiled down at her, his hand reaching up to cup her face. She leaned into the touch, sparking more hope inside of him. 

"Do you want to nap upstairs?"

"No." He shook his head and pulled his hand away. "I want to do this properly. I want to take you out and stuff."

And there it was, the smile that tugged on his heart. God, he was an idiot. It was a miracle that she was still talking to him. "Okay. That's how things normally go, or so I've heard."

"Great. Are you free tonight?" 

Natasha grinned. "Yes."

He took her hand, the soft hand with the soft fingers he was wrapped around completely, and kissed her knuckles. "I'll pick you up at 8."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say that this story doesn't really have an overarching plot, just fragments of their relationship. Also, I'm trying to write them as how they would have been if they weren't hardened by their comic book origins basically. So they're definitely softer than their canon selves.
> 
> Thank you for leaving kudos and pls talk to me in the comments I love when people send me stuff :) <3


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky has good Russian vodka and Natasha catches feelings.

It was Saturday.

Bucky was standing in front of Natasha's door with his phone in his hand. He had just texted her to tell her that she was there. He was early. Maybe even too early, but he underestimated the time it took him to get there. So there he was, a whole 45-minutes early for dinner with strangers.

When the door opened, he braced himself, expecting it to be someone who wasn't Natasha. Except, it was. Her hair was already made, her usual cascade of waves curled neatly. They rested on her shoulders with a gold pin to hold them out of her face. Her make-up wasn't done, however, from the looks of it at least.

"You're early." Yes, yes, he was. It took him a second to realize she was only in a silk robe, clearly not dressed for dinner yet.

"Uh-huh." He nodded, shifting his weight between his feet. "I'm sorry I didn't bring anything."

"Come in," she ushered him inside and gestured for him to follow her up the stairs. "It's fine. I didn't tell you to bring anything."

He could already smell that something good was cooking in the kitchen. Light music was coming from down the hall as well. Their brownstone was four stories high. He was nervous to meet her father and wondered if he was the type of dad who allowed boys to go upstairs because Natasha didn't bat an eyelash and led him to her room. It was on the third floor, the first door near the staircase.

"How many people live here?" The place was huge, but then again he grew up in a lower-middle-class home in Brooklyn. This was probably normal for rich folks. Small, even.

"Just me, Ivan, and the help." Natasha sat back down at her vanity to resume putting on her make-up. At least she tried before her eyes wandered onto Bucky's reflection in the mirror. He just stood there in the middle of her room, his eyes wandering.

"You look good in a suit," she commented. His hair was slicked back and he actually shaved nicely that day. The blue of his eyes was a good contrast against the black of his suit jacket. He's always been handsome to her but now it was just more pronounced.

"Thanks." Bucky's attention was on her bookshelf, reading the titles on the spines. He moved closer to inspect her collection. There were the usual suspects, classic literature - both in English and Russian - but also biographies, books about world geography, history, French textbooks. It was like a piece of him was carved into the shelf. He smiled.

"Of course you have Tolstoy in Russian."

"Well, English translations make it feel different." She shrugged, working on her eye make-up.

There were also a couple of records wedged into the sides of the shelves. He didn't touch them, afraid the books would topple over, but he spotted the record player on a table near another door - presumably her bathroom. So she was that kind of girl.

"What's your dad like?"

"Ivan?" How does one describe Ivan? "Well, he's Russian. Big and loud."

"And he doesn't mind that you invited a random dude to your house and stashed him away in your room while you got dressed?"

"I'm not sixteen anymore, James Barnes." She chuckled, moving to work on her other eye. She was thankful that he wasn't watching her get ready. He kind of made her nervous, but in a good way, not that she'd admit to that.

"You won't mind if I ask you what he does, right?" He looks at her then, catching her eyes in the mirror.

Natasha turns to him with a straight face, a make-up brush in her hand. "He's an arms dealer."

Bucky swallowed, trying his best to keep a neutral expression on his face, feeling stupid exactly a second later when Natasha burst out laughing, returning to her make-up. "You're so easy."

"I fucking hate you." He muttered, going back to inspect more of her room. There were photographs of her on top of a dresser, a couple where she's dressed in those tutus, with flowers in her arms. One with Ivan's arm around her, a big smile on his face. She looked a lot younger in that particular photograph.

"He's in import/export," Natasha eventually explained, picking up an eyeliner. "He started the business in St. Petersburg before moving the company here."

"That's interesting," he was still reeling from the embarrassment he had to endure just a minute ago. He went back to the middle of the room and sat on the very edge of her bed, waiting for her to get finished.

Natasha continued finishing up her face and she was done quicker than he assumed she'd be. It was just the matter of dressing. He spotted what she was planning on wearing hung up at the back her bedroom door. It was an emerald green number with some of the shiniest, smoothest fabric he'd ever seen. Expensive, yet again, but he was convinced she could wear trash from the street and still look like a million bucks.

"How long have you known Sharon?" It was a random question but he didn't like it when things got too quiet.

"She used to be roommates with my friend's now fiance." Natasha got up from her seat, her face finally done, and went to her dress. "Now, can you please close your eyes or something while I try to get this thing on?"

"Oh. Right." Bucky looked around and decided to stand up and turn away from her, closing his eyes for good measure.

"Anyway, Ivan is going to ask you a bunch of weird questions. Please tell him I've known you for more than a couple of days." Natasha checked herself in the mirror, fastening the tie on the wrap dress she had on. The dress was something plain and simple, a gift for Christmas a couple of years ago. "Okay, you can turn around now."

Bucky did and it took everything in him not to gasp. "You look... you look great."

Natasha smiled a bit and slipped her shoes on. She was just about to say something when they were both startled by a loud knock on her door, followed by the all familiar voice she's grown accustomed to by now.

 _"Natalia, are you ready? The guests should be arriving any minute now and I want you down there to greet them."_ He was convinced he was inside one of those Russian mafia movies.

Bucky looked confused, frozen in his spot like he'd just been caught breaking in.

_"Yes, I'll be down in a minute."_

And then after a beat, in English, "What does your friend drink? Wine? Vodka?"

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at Bucky. He only shook his head, confused, not knowing what to answer.

"Let's start him off with wine," she answered for him. "He's a bit shy."

"No room for shyness in my house, young man. I see you in a bit."

They waited for his heavy footsteps to disappear before they both let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. Bucky sank back into her bed, rubbing at his face. "Does your dad know that he sounds like a Russian mafia boss? Because he sounds like a Russian mafia boss."

"You have never met any real-life Russian mafia bosses, James Barnes, and they _don't_ talk like that." They weren't as gruff as Ivan, at least, and they were a lot more smelly. But Bucky didn't need to know that she knew these things or that one of the guests at the dinner party used to work for the Russian mafia. He'd get scared and run off.

They sat beside each other that night, with Natasha giving everyone her signature _'I don't know who you really are and I hate that you're in my house but I have to smile while Ivan does business with all of you'_ smile and Bucky being whisked away in a conversation about international trade policies. Apparently, he and Ivan agreed that a lot of the laws were outdated and that the world needed to revise their codes.

Ivan kept trying to make him drink more, which was just Ivan being himself, but Natasha kept dodging the bottle of vodka he kept offering for him. Bucky thought it was rude to refuse and tried it. He understood why Natasha stopped him from drinking it five minutes later when he felt a buzz coming on.

Natasha had to book him a car after the rest of the guests have gone. Ivan retired with a cigar into the study after giving Bucky a heavy pat on the back. They sat on the stoop as they waited for the car, his cheeks red from the vodka they'd been drinking.

"Your people are so strange," he said, swaying a bit. "What was in that thing? I swear I only had a sip."

"I told you not to drink it."

"Hey," he looked up at her, a smile on his face. "That was actually fun."

"For _you._ You had a lot to drink."

The car rolled up and they stood. Natasha helped him get down the steps and opened the car door for him. She really didn't need to but he caught her hand in his and she had _no other choice_. He lingered a while, smiling down at her, not really wanting to leave just yet. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

And, because he was a bit drunk and extremely stupid, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before slipping inside the car. She closed the door for him and smiled, a fluttering feeling starting inside her chest. Natasha waited until he was far enough away before she touched the place on her cheek where he kissed her. _Oh boy._


	6. Day 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky is a star athlete and Natasha is concerned about the fluttery feelings in her gut.

Bucky had a game that day, which he explicitly invited Natasha to come to. Not just "come if you want" or anything casual like that. No. He said, "I _really_ hope you can make it." He had that big smile on his face too which made it hard for her to refuse, even when she knew she wouldn't be able to make it to the first half of the game because of a class. Sharon and Steve will be there too but that didn't matter to her. She would have come even without that safety net.

So there Natasha was, out of breath from running from the other end of the campus to go to this game. She didn't even understand soccer but apparently, Bucky was really good at it. She stepped on a lot of toes in order to make her way to where Sharon and Steve were. Sharon saved her a seat and a hotdog. She was quickly replacing another blonde as her best friend.

"How is it?" Her eyes were on the field, searching for the man she came for.

"Well, none of them have scored a goal yet," Sharon handed her a hotdog and a water bottle.

"What? I'm an hour late." She was so confused at this point. She couldn't find Bucky on the field. All she could see were blue shirts and white shirts but none of them distinctive.

"That's soccer for you." Steve had been sketching in his little notebook the whole time, not really paying attention to the game.

"Look, there he is, with the ball," Sharon said. On the far left of the field, she saw a boy in a blue shirt kicking a ball past the ones in white. _Oh._ Oh, that looked exciting.

The crowd around them was roaring in cheers, some of them yelling his name. Natasha felt her heart swell in pride. Bucky passed the ball to his teammate and made sure he was clear before passing it back. It all happened so fast, the next thing Natasha knew the ball was in the goal and everyone around them were standing up in a roar.

 _"I love you Bucky!"_ A girl behind them shouted. After what felt like forever of yelling, the crowd sat back down again.

"Now they need to make sure the other team doesn't score a goal by the end of the game," Steve explained for her. Sharon offered her chips and she obliged. It was going to be a long hour if that was the first goal of the game. Sports was so foreign to her. Ivan was more of a tennis fan himself.

Natasha kept a close eye on the ball, following it back and forth until she ultimately found that she was enjoying herself. And then, just seconds before time, Bucky kicks another long one and the opposing team's goalkeeper fails to protect their post.

A roar louder than the previous one erupted from the benches, everyone standing and waving their little blue flags. Steve and Sharon ushered Natasha off of the benches, saying something about waiting for him on the grass. They stood there, along with other people with their flowers and their blue lion flags. Natasha's heart was pounding against her chest as the band played so close to them.

After what seemed like such a long time of taking photos, shaking hands, and hugging - _lots of hugging_ \- and _yelling_ , James Barnes emerged from the crowd and made his way over to them, the biggest grin on his face.

"You made it." He took her in his arms and spun her around before setting her back down on her feet. "I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm happy you're here."

"Congratulations," Natasha beamed up at him, not minding at all how his sweat transferred to her clothes, admiring the redness of his cheeks instead.

"Good game, Buck," the two men did their little handshake-chest bump thing and Sharon gave Bucky a light hug, not touching him at all. She could feel the energy radiating off of him. It was nice.

He looked at her again like she just won the game for him and the fluttering in her belly started up again. God, he wanted to kiss her, he really did, but he figured she wouldn't want to kiss him when his face was dripping with sweat so he settled on just holding her hand for a bit.

However, he was being pulled away by his teammates, already planning drinks to celebrate. "You should come with us," he said to his friends, but mostly Natasha. Steve nodded instantly and held onto Sharon.

"I have an audition tomorrow morning." She would have practiced until late into the night if it wasn't for him but she didn't regret it a single bit.

"Aww, come on," he was still holding onto her hand, trying to pull her with him to the crowd.

"Sorry, it's a _really_ important audition." She put her other hand on top of his.

"Okay, okay." He released her hand and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you for coming."

He got pulled into the celebrating mob in the field where his team was and disappeared while Natasha made her way back home.

She was about to go to sleep, prepping her pillows on her bed when her phone started ringing. It was Bucky. She expected him to be busy at the after party. "Hello?"

"Hey," he sounded a lot less drunk than she thought he'd be. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just about to get into bed." She slipped under her sheets and pressed the phone against her ear as she lied down. "I thought you'd be at a party or something."

"Yeah, my body kind of aches in a lot of different places so I went home. Would it be weird if I told you I'm sitting in an ice bath right now?"

"No," she smiled. "So..."

"So... I... just kind of wanted to talk to you. I didn't get to earlier." He leaned against the wall in the tub he was in and closed his eyes.

This was dumb. The fact that he went home from a party celebrating his victory was... unlike him. Even Steve and Sharon were still there, being normal human beings. He didn't lie about his entire body feeling like one whole tense muscle but he was sure he could have done this later, at least after a couple of drinks.

"Oh?" Natasha quirked an eyebrow as if he was there in her room with her.

"The audition tomorrow, what's it for?" He yawned, which made her yawn.

"The winter show. Romeo and Juliet."

"And you're auditioning for Romeo, of course." She could hear him smiling, as improbable as that was, but she was smiling too.

"Juliet. I don't know if I can do it. Apparently, I'm not bright and emotionally vulnerable enough to play the part." Natasha wasn't used to playing happy characters during shows. It just didn't come naturally for her.

"I'm sure you'll do great." He was only saying that, surely, because he didn't understand. Memorizing choreography was easy, it always was, but attaching emotions into that choreography was a completely different ball game.

"Thanks," she said instead because she was getting more and more nervous about the audition. "I just have to channel a teenage ingenue who's head over heels in love with a boy she's just met. No big deal."

"A classic," he smirked, not really knowing why. The quiet in the apartment was making it feel like she was right beside him talking. "I don't want to keep you up. What time is the audition tomorrow?"

"Around 10 AM," she turned over in her bed to reach for her lamp and turned it off. Natasha always thought that the dark made rooms feel colder. She liked it.

"Do you want to grab something to eat after?"

To say that her heart skipped a beat was ridiculous because she was pretty sure that hearts weren't capable of doing that, but that's what she felt anyway. "Yeah, sure,"

He hummed, smiling like an idiot in the bathtub. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Natasha."

She couldn't stop smiling. Ridiculous. "Goodnight, James."

The next morning at exactly 9:50 AM, she received a text from him, wishing her luck at her audition. She didn't know good luck charms were a real thing until that moment because she felt like she was floating the whole time she was dancing. Damn. Maybe she  _did_ like him.


	7. Day 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Natasha talk about love and failures.

Bucky didn't like what he was seeing, not one bit. It made him feel strange. like his insides were all twisty. He sat by the fountain at Washington Square Park with Steve. A minute ago, he was trying to finish a paper that was due that night. (He knew he needed to stop procrastinating but sometimes his brain just works better under pressure.) Right across from him, through the water of the fountain near the arc, he spotted Natasha, but she wasn't alone. Someone was with her and he had a hand on her arm. She was laughing. He could almost hear it.

The dude that clung onto her was smiling, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses with a red tint on it. It was only when they got closer that Bucky realized he was also holding onto a walking stick. " _Shit,_ " he muttered, eyes going back to the screen of his laptop.

Steve looked up from his phone then, startled. "What?"

"Nothing. Natasha's here." He shrugged and leaned into his laptop as if begging it to absorb him or something. He prayed that she didn't spot him glaring at them from a distance. It wasn't a good look.

"Who's that with her? They seem close."

"Quit staring, they'll see--"

"Nat!" The blonde dumbass called out, waving his hand in the air. He was an idiot. Why was this guy his best friend? Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes before looking up. Natasha smiled at him when she saw him and he couldn't help but smile back, waving at her to come over. He was an idiot too.

Natasha put a hand on Matt's on her arm and leaned closer towards him, her eyes never leaving Bucky as they walked around the fountain to get to them. "Don't look now but the man I was talking to you about is here."

"Ah Red, I can't believe you brought me face to face with my nemesis." He smiled, and Natasha remembered the time when she would have felt something because of it. She was so young then, and he was handsome and smart. But that was a long time ago.

"He's _not_ your nemesis." Nothing ever happened between them. She was a junior in high school when he went to college and disappeared from her life. "We aren't even a thing."

Matt laughed. "Like how we weren't a thing?"

"Shut up, he's gonna hear you." Bucky was climbing out of the steps of the fountain, tucking his laptop under his arm. "Hi- James," she greeted.

"Real smooth, sweetheart."

"I'm going to shove you into the fountain if you don't stop." Thankfully, Bucky seemed like he was preoccupied with something else to hear Matt being a douchebag.

"Nat," his smile was tight on his lips. Steve waved at her and proceeded and continued with whatever it was he was doing on his phone. "And...?"

"Oh, this is Matt. He's an old friend."

"I can't believe you'd dismiss what we had like that, Red." _Red?_ He had a nickname for her? Bucky almost rolled his eyes. The guy - _Matt_ \- held out a hand for a handshake and Bucky took it. He had a firm grip. "Matt Murdock, attorney at law."

"Law _school_ , he means," Natasha said.

"Bucky Barnes." He was wary of this Matt character. It was the first time Bucky saw Natasha this comfortable with another person. He's met some of her classmates, of course, since he has somehow managed to sit in on her classes once or twice now. But he's never met _this_ dude. Then he realized that Natasha's met all of his friends. God, he really _was_ an idiot.

"Well, I can feel a shift in the air. I'll leave you two to it. I still have studying to do." Bucky would have laughed at the joke if he wasn't feeling weird inside. The Matt guy had a big grin on his face as he unfurled his walking stick and let go of Natasha's arm. "I'll see you later, Red."

And right before Bucky's eyes, the dude gave Natasha kiss on the cheek and gave him a pat on the arm as he started walking away. He felt hot suddenly and he was sure his eye twitched. Natasha was staring at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Are you okay, James?"

"You two seem close." He gestured for them to sit on the steps again so that he could focus on his laptop and not the fact that he was feeling... _strange._

"I used to have a big crush on him in high school." Natasha eyed him as they sat down, close enough that they were still in Steve's vicinity but far enough from him for a bit of privacy. Bucky was acting funny and she kind of knew why but she didn't want to assume. They weren't together, after all.

"Oh." He didn't know what to say to that. He refused to call what he was feeling jealousy because he _wasn't_ the jealous type. 

"Yeah, but nothing ever came from it. Too complicated."

"How so?"

"I don't know. I'm not good with relationships."

"You and me both then."

Natasha smiled at him and looked up at the fountain, at the people who were walking around in the water. After a while, he started working on his paper again, or at least he tried to but she was _right there_ and he wasn't sure what to do. They didn't plan this meeting. He was surprised she didn't leave with that Matt dude.

"I didn't get the part." Natasha leaned back on her arms and stretched out her legs in front of her. "Juliet. I didn't get it."

Bucky turned to her, his brows furrowed. The paper could wait. "Nat, that's absurd. Who decides these things?"

She smiled, her eyes still at the people running around the fountain. "The director, of course. He told me that if the role had called for _hard intensity_ he would have cast me."

"What the fuck is _hard intensity_?" He's watched her dance. Sure, he didn't know the intricacies of the art form but he's watched her. She was beautiful.

"It's okay." Natasha danced her heart out that day, she felt so immersed in the character. Her initial reaction was to cry her eyes out but she stopped herself from going that low. It was just a role. "Can't play a girl wildly in love if you've never felt that, I guess."

Bucky blinked twice, a part of him still wanting to march into that director's office to present a case for Natasha's dancing prowess. The other part curious about this new thing he's discovered about her. She's never been in love?

"That's why I was with Matt," she continued, looking away from him again. "I was trying to test a hypothesis."

"What hypothesis?" The breeze blew some of her hair onto her cheek and he wanted so badly to reach out and correct it but he held himself back. He wasn't her boyfriend.

"People say first loves never die. I thought he was mine but I didn't feel anything romantic towards him."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, his insides feeling weird again. "Which means... he's not your first love?"

"Correct." She left it at that, not really knowing why she was bringing this up with him. "Anyway, I haven't told anyone about it yet."

"About... Matt?"

Natasha laughed and looked back at him and he could swear he felt an artery burst in his chest. " _No,_ about Juliet. I don't know... I guess I wanted to tell you first."

"Why?" What was she doing to him? Why did his cheeks feel hot?

"I don't know," she shrugged, a smile on her face. "I just felt like I could. I'm not a big fan of sharing failures."

Bucky understood that for the most part. Being the oldest of four children, he knew what it was like to have expectations placed on him. Failure wasn't an option for him most of the time. He had siblings to look out for.

"I get that." He returned the smile. Or was he smiling the whole time?

They stayed silent there for a while, sitting beside each other in comfortable silence. Bucky's paper was forgotten and Natasha's internal conflict, while still ongoing, was silenced for a moment. Their shared silence was only shattered minutes later by Steve proclaiming that he was hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the Smithsonian bit about Bucky in TWS, he's the oldest of four children so I ran with it.


	8. Day 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Natasha are being weird and their friends are here to help.

Natasha was pacing back and forth in front of Bobbi as she sat on the couch. The blonde was just following her, trying so hard not to laugh at the situation her friend was in. Meanwhile, Clint padded into the room while trying to balance three mugs of coffee in his hands.

"You need to calm down." Bobbi reached for one of the mugs as Clint set them down on their coffee table to save him and their drinks.

Natasha stopped and looked at them, trying to put on a neutral expression on her face. "I'm calm."

Clint sighed as he settled down beside Bobbi, picking up his coffee and taking a long sip as Bobbi continued. "You've been pacing back and forth in my living room since you got here."

"It's not even that big of a deal, Nat," Clint said.

She's started pacing again. On the table, along with their coffee, was her phone. She eyed it, the message she read that morning seared into her brain.

"That's easy for you to say. You got engaged _months_ into your relationship."

Clint sighed and looked over at Bobbi, shaking his head. Bobbi had to take over because Clint wasn't very helpful when it came to Natasha's new relationship. Ever since he found out that she was dating that hot shot athlete dude, he's been wary. He hasn't even met the guy but he could tell he was trouble. That became more evident now that Natasha was clearly distraught in his living room.

"What did the message say exactly?"

Natasha sighed and recited the text message word for word. "Nat, remember when I told you that one of our old teammates was getting hitched? Apparently, they're going to confiscate the guests' phones during the weekend so that we can all be 'in the moment'. Whatever the hell that means. I'll text you when I can. I love you."

She sat into the seat opposite the blondes before her, confused with her own internal turmoil. It really shouldn't be a big deal but it kind of was, right? "And you've never said it to each other before?"

"No," she sighed. Natasha Romanoff was many things. She was an excellent dancer and a better student. She was confident and she was pretty sure she could get away with anything because of how cunning she was. But when it came to relationships, especially the one she had now, she was at a complete loss.

"Maybe it just slipped," Clint offered. "Or maybe, you know - and this is going to sound absolutely crazy - _he means it_."

"Nat, I don't know why this is a big deal. People have told you they loved you before. He's not your first boyfriend."

That's already what she told herself on the way over. Natasha was nothing if not rational. Talking to Bobbi was like talking to herself.

"But it's different, right?" Clint answered Bobbi for her, afraid that the man she called her best friend was going to expose her. "Because this time you actually want to say it back." And he did.

"I'm beginning to think that I shouldn't have come here." He was probably right though, which wasn't usual when it came to their friendship.

"Just text him back or else he'll think he's done something wrong and freak out." Bobbi picked her phone up from the coffee table and reached over to hand it to her. Natasha took it from the tall blonde reluctantly, opening up his message and reading it again. She took a deep breath and started typing away.

 

* * *

 

Bucky Barnes wanted so bad to throw his phone outside of the window of the moving car he was in. He didn't know why he said what he said... well, he _did_. He knew exactly why he said what he said. But it's been almost three hours since he texted her and she still hadn't replied. Did he freak her out? Did she not feel the same?

Sam sat driving with a smirk on his face. This was probably the worst day of his life. "If you don't throw it outside the window, I will. Stop moving around in your seat."

"Shut up." He rolled his eyes but immediately pulled up his phone when it vibrated. It was just a stupid e-mail about some dumb assignment. Still not Natasha.

"This girl really got you, huh? I mean, I've _seen_ her. I know what you're dealing with. But really? Waiting by your phone?"

"Shut up." If this hadn't been an important team member, Bucky wouldn't have gone. But he had to because _apparently,_ he was a star athlete now. Sam was only there because he was the team captain. He wouldn't have gone too if it hadn't been for that.

"What did you tell her anyway?" Sam finally looked over at him when they stopped at a red light. "Is it something stupid? I can feel like you told her something stupid."

"I told her-" he sighed and sank into his seek, rubbing his eyes. "I might have told her that I love her."

It took Sam three whole seconds before he burst into laughter and continued driving. He had a right to laugh. If it had been Steve with him, he'd laugh too. If it were a different person who told him what he just told Sam, _he'd_ laugh. They were adults. This wasn't supposed to be a big deal anymore.

"Shut up."

"You--I've known you for years, man. _Years._ I've never seen you like this."

"I don't know, Sam. She's different."

"I can see that. The Bucky Barnes I knew wouldn't be this hung up on a girl. I've seen some of them cry, man."

"That was _one_ time." A messy time, back when he was a freshman and gaining popularity around school.

"No, it wasn't." He honestly couldn't remember how many girls he's gone out with ever since he joined the soccer team. Some girls were just into that whole athlete thing, he guessed. Natasha couldn't give a shit about that or the fact that he was an asshole when they first met. It was nice.

Bucky's phone vibrated again and he almost dropped his phone. It was from her. He looked at Sam for a bit for support but he was focused on the road, which was his job as the designated driver - but he almost didn't want to read the message himself.

"Well, share the details, Barnes. Did she dump your ass or not?"

He took a deep breath and opened the message because what was the worst thing she could say? Well, she could freak out about it but he trusted her a little bit more than that.

Her message was short. His eyes had trouble focusing on the words he was trying to read because of how nervous he was. Once the words registered in his useless brain, he sighed and shook his head, hiding a smile as he looked out of the window.

"Have fun at the wedding. Call me when you get your phone back. I love you too."


	9. Day 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Natasha have a study date.

The little bit of sun was peering through the curtains cast light on Natasha's face beside him. It was late in the afternoon and the house was quiet. Mr. Petrovich was gone, away on another business trip, and Natasha didn't want to study alone. They got to study for a good forty-five minutes before one thing led to another and now their textbooks were on the floor along with their clothes.

Natasha was lying on her stomach, her face turned towards him. He wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep but her eyes were closed and all he wanted to do was kiss her again. He settled for pushing some of her hair off of her face and pressing his lips on her shoulder.

Her green eyes fluttered open then, smiling as she moved to lie half on top of him. "Hey," she greeted, kissing him softly, much more softly than how she kissed him earlier. Bucky's hands went up to rest on her waist, caressing her skin there.

"Hi," he said back after she pulled away. "Good study date."

"I'd say so." She smirked and kissed him again and _god_ Natasha swore she could kiss him forever. She could still remember the first time she kissed him. It was right after their first date and he was dropping her off. He hovered for a bit before she said _fuck it_ and kissed him. He tried so hard to be a gentleman.

She's added kissing him to her favorite things to do list. Second only to actually _doing_ him, which was added just thirty minutes ago. She still felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest, her insides tingly. She was so grateful that Ivan was away for business that day.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his hand coming up to brush her hair away from her face.

"I bet you say that to all of your girlfriends."

"So," Bucky grinned and moved so that she'd lay back and he could hover on top of her. Her hair fanned around her, the sun soft on her face, making her eyes reflect a deeper green. God, she was beautiful. "You're my girlfriend, then."

"Well, I'd call someone I was kissing on a daily basis my boyfriend but that's just me.

Bucky leaned down to kiss her again, a perk he'd been given access to when they started going out. Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss before pulling away. "Don't you have that exam you need to study for?"

"I have more pressing matters to attend to, I believe." He kissed her neck, now armed with the knowledge that he wasn't allowed to leave marks there because it wouldn't look nice when she danced. He trailed kisses down her shoulder and her collar bone instead.

Meanwhile, Natasha's hands were on his shoulders, holding onto him as he trailed further south. "You can't just - _oh_ \- wing it."

"I can." He nipped at the skin on her hip as he settled between her thighs--his new favorite spot. "You underestimate my ability to cram for everything."

"Well," her breathing was getting heavier the lower against her body he got. "If you say so." Her fingers carded through his hair as he settled where he did, her breath hitching when she felt his lips on the inside of her thigh.

It was late in the night when they shuffled down the stairs for dinner. Natasha's legs felt like they were made of jelly which wasn't good since she had a class early the next day, but she basked in the feeling she had in her chest. She was happy, truly, to share an intimate relationship with a boy who looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing on earth.

He was making pancakes while she sat on the counter, her legs dangling in front of her. Ivanka, their housekeeper, offered to make them something to eat, but Bucky insisted on cooking her something. Apparently, that something was breakfast. At _11 PM._

"It's the only thing I know how to cook." He explained, his hand resting on her knee so casually that it was like he's done it a million times. His cheeks were still a bit red from their _studying_ but hers were as well. He had to stop himself from kissing her again, focusing on flipping the pancakes instead.

"I'm surprised you know how to cook _anything._ "

"You continue to underestimate me. I'm offended." He grinned anyway as he transferred the pancakes onto a dish.

Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. His hair was still messy and his lips were still a bit pinker than usual, he was cute. After prepping the pancakes with butter and syrup, he started feeding her. The pancakes were actually good. Maybe even better than the ones Ivanka's made. Bucky explained that it was his mom's recipe. Apparently, his parents have passed and his sisters were living with relatives.

They spent the rest of the night talking, their respective school assignments forgotten on the floor of her bedroom. When Ivan checked on Natasha when he got home early the next morning, he found them sleeping soundly in her bed. Thankfully _not_ naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual I'm sorry! But also thank you for the kudos and comments <3


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